On the Borders.
Our next stage would take us to Carlisle, the border-town behind which lay the sacred soil, "Scotia dear." Mr. B. and his son joined us here and went on with us the last day upon English soil, waving adieu, as it were, as we plunged into Scotland. Mr. and Mrs. K. left us for Paisley to see the children, and what a loss I here record no one but the members can possibly understand. Aaleck and Aggie gone! If anything could long dampen the joyous spirits of the party, this separation surely would have done it; but we were to meet again in Edinburgh, where the reconstruction of the Charioteers was to take place. At Carlisle, too, the Parisians were to be welcomed back again—plenty to look forward to, you see. We started for Carlisle July 15th, the day superb as usual.
We had left the Lake District, with its hills and flowing streams, to pass through a tamer land; but our luncheon to-day, in a field near "Hesketh in the Forest," was not unromantic. The members from Anderton Hall caught the fever, as was usual with neophytes, and regretted that their return was imperatively required. One day gave them a taste of the true gypsy life. Hesketh was "in the Forest," no doubt, but this was many long years ago. To-day there is nothing to justify its name. Smiling green fields, roads as perfect as they can be made, pretty houses, trim hedge-rows and gardens, and all so intensely civilized as to bring vividly before you the never ceasing change which the surface of the earth undergoes to fit it for the sustenance of dense masses of men.
Carlisle, July 15.
Here is reconstruction for you with a vengeance! First, let us mourn the unhappy departures: Mr. and Mrs. K. went yesterday and Miss R., Miss G., the Misses B., Miss D. and Mr. B. and son go to-day. Cousin Maggie, who had become absorbed in this kind of life, so dazed with happiness, her turn has come too, even she must go; Andrew M., with his fine Scotch aroma and his songs, must report to his superior officer at the encampment, for is he not a gallant volunteer and an officer under Her Majesty, "sworn never to desert his home except in case of invasion!" Well, we cannot help these miserable changes in this world, nor the "sawt, sawt tears" of the young ladies as they kiss each other, swearing eternal friendship, and sob good-byes.
But if farewell ever sighs, welcome comes in smiling. Look! Cousin E. in my arms and a warm kiss of welcome! That is the very best of consolation. Clever, artistic Miss R., too, from Edinburgh; and then are we not to have our four originals back again, after two long weeks' absence! It was fortunate that our sad farewells were so promptly followed by smiling welcomes.
Do any people love their country as passionately as the Scotch? I mean the earth of it, the very atoms of which its hills and glens are composed. I doubt it. Now here is Maggie, a douse, quiet, sensible girl. I tried to say something cheery to her to-day as we were approaching Carlisle, where we were to part, reminding her jokingly that she had received five weeks' coaching while her poor sister Eliza would have only two. "Ah! but she has Scotland, Naig!" "Do you really mean to tell me that you would rather have two weeks in your own country than five weeks seeing a new land, and that land England, with London and Brighton, and the lakes and all?" I just wish you could have seen and heard how the "Of course" came in reply. The Scotch always have Scotland first in their hearts, and some of them, I really believe, will get into trouble criticising Paradise if it be found to differ materially from Scotland.
Farewell to England.
To-morrow we are to enter that land of lands. Fair England, farewell! How graciously kind has been the reception accorded by you to the wanderers! How beautiful you are! how tenderly dear you have become to all of us! Not one of us but can close his eyes and revel in such quiet beauty as never before was his.